It had to be done. There was no other way around it. Buried in the backyard just beyond the property line in a metal box never to be opened again. I could bear neither the sight nor the stretch any longer; it was visceral. While it is surely a pity that so much work and scholarship funds are now down the drain, I have never felt so unburdened. She, or what was left of she, is now gone. Reduced to bits and pieces of her, far from the grotesque mimicry of life she became. Although I do feel a twinge of guilt knowing I was to blame for her transformation.

Did it need to be done? I did tell her I'd take care of her, help her, if anything went wrong in the experiment. She trusted me so.... implicitly. That was foolish on her part. Marie knew what kind of person I am, ever since we were kids. I've always loved taking things apart and putting them back together. Even when she caught me with the neighbor's cat, she still trusted me. That silly, sweet, foolish Marie. Heart was as full as my lab notebook, now buried in a shallow grave just 5 feet away from me. I mustn't get sentimental now.

I wanted it to be done. She was not herself anymore, akin to a hellish imp. Horns, hooves, and fur sprawled across her misshapen torso. When an experiment goes wrong, in the pursuit of science, you must simply start over. Of course, there is shame and a small bruise on my ego from the failure, but she knew what she was signing up for. Her archaic understanding of my research earned her spot in that grave. I'd be half as half-witted if I didn't clean up my mess and take responsibility. Knowing her, which I do, she's probably happy I ended her suffering. Especially recalling her constant cries of pain. I wanted to be done with it, as did she. An artist can sometimes spend years on a painting, but rejoice in the ecstasy of tossing the torn pieces in the wind. Wiping the slate clean. Marie would have been delighted to see on my face when I smothered her. While her body resisted, her mind surely didn't. I rub the fresh scratches on my wrists fondly, as if they were a departing gift of love. I cannot wait to try again.